Chapter 4
Severus Snape patted his pockets checking to make sure he had his usual kit - Swiss multi knife, mini flashlight, small memo book, a pen, two zip lock bag, a handkerchief and a roll of Lifesavers. Sitting at the very back of the bus he placed names to faces having inquired of Mrs. Welborn of every occupant of the other table during lunch.
Ms. Danforth was now chatting up Mr. Ironside. It looked very much like a one-sided conversation as Ironside kept fiddling with his camera. He took a picture now and again of the passing scenery. The Moss', Ms. McFadden and Mr. Maclemore were engaged in a game of what sounded like Go Fish. Mr. Claymore was reading his packet intently. Mr. McAdoo and Sir Renville were at the head of the bus. His own seatmate, Mr. Lewis, was snoring lightly. Lewis had barely made the bus pulling into the hotel entrance as the bus was loading. Mr. McAdoo had wordlessly handed him his packet. He had then said a cordial hello to everyone and promptly went to sleep with his head propped against the window.
Ms. Stevens was holding court near the front with Mr. Timmons and Mr. Levinson in close attendance. Severus had decided to keep his distance from her despite the howling protests of his predatory instincts. Instincts that even now urged him to fling Levinson and Timmons off the bus and take his rightful position by her side. Or with her on my lap and the two of us getting to a bit of nuzzling and petting. He shook his head noting that this was not the time nor place to behave like a hormonal teenager. A little voice reminded him that he'd had precious little time to be a hormonal teenager when he WAS a teenager. What was wrong with being one now with a bit of flirting and casual fun? Obviously the gag and muzzle was not working. He shook his head once more and concentrated on his information packet. He half listened to the conversations swirling around as he jotted down notes.
" - smugglers. Look here, it says there are still hidden caches on the island. Imagine that."
"Does your boyfriend treat you the way you want to be treated, Diana?"
"Go fish! By the way has anyone brought an umbrella? It looks like a bad storm is on the way."
"Look, I'm really not interested. Look elsewhere, will you?"
"This is all so frightfully exciting!"
"- wonder if the gardens will be open for viewing. There are some varieties that only grow here, you know."
Hermione kept her face interested but inside she was quite bored. Timmons had seemingly glued himself to her side after lunch. He was attractive enough but his obvious interest was becoming a turn off. Mr. Levinson had followed Timmons' lead and was interjecting his own brand of charm when and where he could. Her inner voice admonished her stridently. You're too demanding. You want passable good looks, superior intelligence, sparkling witty repartee, super sex, fantastic conversation, strength of character and alluring mystery. Get real. That package doesn't exist except in books and fantasies. You have two men chasing you now why not let one or both catch you? You only have a few days to enjoy yourself before you go back to St. Whatsisname. She squashed the voice down adding that she just wasn't in the mood and it was St. Mungo's.
Her eyes drifted to one of the men who could potentially put her in the right mood. The sparks of attraction were instant and if she was reading him correctly mutual. There was no mistaking her body's reaction. It had been a long time since her pulse rate had beat in that particularly rousing rhythm. Seventh year at Hogwarts to be exact. She hadn't done anything about it then thinking that it was a mere passing infatuation. Now that she was older she knew all the signs from passing interest to serious consideration to undeniable attraction. Timmons had no hope of getting out of the passing interest category. Mr. Wright had long passed serious consideration and was cozily settled into undeniable attraction. She could see that he was absorbed in the mystery as he studiously wrote in his notebook while consulting his information packet. She chided herself for not doing the same thing instead of entertaining the earnest Mr. Levinson and the now tiresome Mr. Timmons.
She took her time studying Mr. Wright while murmuring a positive monosyllable now and then to encourage her gentlemen along. Mr. Wright's brows were furrowed in deep concentration and he would occasionally arch an eyebrow when he got to an interesting part. The first time she spied that eyebrow arch a prickle of old delicious memory made the hair on her skin stand on end. A prickle that triggered chill but soon turned to heat.
At that moment, Mr. Ironside stood up suddenly and switched to the other side of the bus adroitly adjusting his camera. Everyone else looked up from whatever they were doing to see what had caught their fellow sleuth's attention. His obvious target was the incongruous sight of some windsurfers gliding along on the bay.
Sir Anthony said. "This part of the coast is particularly attractive to water sports what with the strong and opposing tide patterns and the wind is quite extraordinary I hear. Windsurfing is a fairly recent diversion."
There were three windsurfers bobbing and weaving in the water exchanging places. Their colorful sails stood out attracting the eye like beacons in the blue sea.
"Where do they launch from?" asked Mr. Timmons.
"I assume that most of them start and end at Marazion or one of the many sailing clubs in Penzance. In fact they offer rentals there and you can sail right into the Mount's harbor."
"Seems like a fantastic mode of travel," commented Claymore looking up from the packet and leaning against the window to take in the windsurfers himself. His blue eyes were alight with pleasure.
"Yes, it does seem to be getting more and more popular." Said Sir Anthony. "Some of the international sports clubs have local chapters at Marazion."
"Definitely a sport for the young." Said John Moss. "I'll stick with actual boats, thank you. Those boards look very flimsy to me."
"Yes, you can do so much more with a boat," added Emily Moss.
"I never had the guts to try surfing but windsurfing seems more manageable," said Levinson to Hermione squinting at the surfers. "I might try that out on my next vacation."
Up ahead of them they could see the center section of Marazion coming into view. The mystery hunters roused themselves and began to gather their gear. The bus lumbered past the village square. It finally stopped in front of the Chymorvah Hotel. The hotel was situated just above the beach with St. Michael's Mount dramatically rising from the bay in the background.
"We'll be stopping here for some tea and refreshments before we head on to the Mount." Said Mr. McAdoo. "Oswald, check on the ferry, please."
"Right away, Mr. McAdoo." Oswald replied.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be leaving here in about 30 minutes and board the next ferry to the Mount." Said Mr. McAdoo as he lead them into the Chymorvah's side garden past blooming rose bushes and other flowers. Mr. McAdoo shook hands with a waiting brown-haired, stocky gentleman. "Mr. Martin here is the manager. Mr. Martin, thank you for having us today."
"Simply a delight to have your group here today, Mr. McAdoo. A delight. Everyone, everyone, we have tea and sandwiches ready and waiting." Mr. Martin gestured everyone to take whatever tables they desired. "Rest or stroll and enjoy the view. Mr. Handy is down that path there."
As his charges scattered, Mr. McAdoo raised his hands and his voice for attention. "Please, no wandering off now! We're on a very strict schedule. The ferry'll take about 5 minutes to get to the Mount. We'll be spending no more than 2 hours there. I regret we canna stay longer but you can always come back for a longer visit later on. We will then be leaving the Mount on the last ferry at 5pm."
"Why don't we just walk across now? I can see the causeway from here." Commented Adam Claymore. "It doesn't look too far across."
"After that ride I could use a long stretch myself." Added Mr. Lewis looking completely awake and alert. He too was looking closely at the granite causeway curving its way to the island about five hundred yards offshore..
"Well, it is low tide right now but walking across would take an additional fifteen minutes. As I said we're on a tight schedule." Mr. McAdoo replied.
"Mr. McAdoo, I have a question." Said John Moss.
"Is it very urgent, Mr. Moss? I've some details to attend to." McAdoo said. "Perhaps, Oswald can help you when he returns."
"It's not urgent. I'll catch up with you on the boat." Moss replied. He returned to conversation with his wife and Mr. Martin.
Maclemore and Timmons shared a table chatting about their favorite soccer teams and their prospects. Lewis sat by himself intently reading his packet while inhaling his tea. Ms. Danforth was hanging on to Claymore's every word at their table. Ironside was rabidly snapping pictures of St. Michaels' Mount as well as obliging some of the others who wanted souvenir pictures of them and the island view. Levinson and Ms. McFadden talked casually while standing by the serving table. Ms. Stevens and Mr. Wright were absent from the rest.
Hermione took her tea and sandwich and made her way quickly out of sight of either Mr. Timmons or Mr. Levinson. She made her way down a few steps on to the sandy beach. With no small relief, she set her tea, sandwich and tote bag down. She slipped off her heeled pumps and rummaged in her tote bag for her flats. She set the flats aside for later. She sat down enjoying her tea and pondering their island destination.
A faraway sound carried to her ears. It was a voice that resonated rich and deep, intimate as a caress. Every word was a balm to her romance-starved soul. "Are you a vision tantalizing and brief? Or are you the longings of my heart made real?"
Hermione turned her face towards the sound. A figure, a decidedly male figure, was making his way towards her. She realized it was Mr. Wright walking over the sands towards her. Severus had gone looking for a quiet spot but saw Ms. Stevens instead. Inexplicably, he was drawn to her.
He stopped a few meters from her and looked at her intently. "Will the goddess grace her supplicant with a reply? Shall I approach or depart?"
"Are your intentions honorable?" Hermione squinted against the sun glaring behind Mr. Wright.
"What if they are?" He took a few steps towards her. "Then depart, kind sir, for I want no part of you or yours." Was it her imagination or did his voice sound deeper than before?
"How much would I profit were I less than honorable?" Severus knelt before her.
Time to separate the men from the boys. Hermione looked him straight in the eye. "Profit is as profit does and only if you consider the prize worth the pursuit."
Severus reclined on his side next to her. He reached into his blazer and pulled out a single freshly plucked rose. He held it out to her hand stretched palm down with the rose between his second and third fingers. "Then consider this my first offering."
Hermione hesitated for a moment but only for a moment. She laid her left hand on his hand while taking the rose gently with the other. "You are so very good." She said with a knowing smile.
"You're none too shabby at this yourself." He grinned. He eyes roved over her face memorizing the delight in her the eyes and the sweet seduction of her smile.
"I thought you'd given up on me? It seemed Ms. Danforth had you staked out for herself." She said sipping her tea.
"There are some things that one does not walk away from. Then on the opposite and extreme end of the spectrum is Ms. Danforth. One runs far, far away and with ... alacrity." He said the words so deadpan that she couldn't stop herself from laughing out loud.
"She is very attractive, pretty even." Hermione cursed herself inwardly for seeming to be so desperate for a compliment. Hermione reclined on to her back with her tote bag performing double duty as a makeshift pillow.
Severus made up his mind to press his advantage. Who knew when he could get her alone again? He looked at her from head to toe. Her white blouse was demurely cut. Her long, dark figure hugging skirt came to her knees leaving her shapely calves exposed. He found her feet inexplicably adorable. "I prefer a complete woman."
"A complete woman?" She asked smelling the rose and fingering the petals.
Severus leaned closer to her curling a silky black strand around his finger. He pitched his voice low whispering to her alone. "A woman is complete to me because of all the things she is - her emotions, thoughts, intelligence, humor, grace, beauty. All of those things make her complete."
His very nearness was causing havoc with her breathing. She fought to breathe normally. Despite the cooling wind, she was growing warmer and warmer. He was so close now with only a few inches separating them. The scent of his aftershave mixed in with the scent of the rose in her hand. She was afraid to turn her head and look into his eyes. What would she see? What would happen if they got closer? Would she burst into flames? Her voice was shaky when she said "Have you ever found a ... a complete woman?"
Before Severus could reply someone shouted out to them to gather at the ferry immediately. Severus sighed and said. "I'll tell you later."
He rose and extended his hand to help her up. Still holding on to his hand for balance, she put on her flats. Together they walked the down the beach to the ferry landing. Neither of them said a word.
The waters were calm and the ride across was smooth and quick. The chatter among their group increased the closer they got to the island. The ferry docked at the harbor. Sir Renville led them up an uneven winding cobblestone walkway up to the castle entrance. Along the way he pointed out the restaurant, cafes and shops lining the harbor as well as Jack's well. Hermione peered down the well. It wasn't deep maybe two and a half meters to the bottom. It now served as a wishing well. Numerous coins glittered on its sandy bottom. She hurried to catch up with the others.
They were met at the castle's front hall by the lady of the house Lady Portia Renville. She and her husband led the group through a full tour. Each room was decorated and furnished in the style of different periods. In the library, Sir Renville exhibited the original charter signed by Edward the Confessor framed and hanging above the mantel. It was impressively old about two meters long and two and half meters wide. Next stop was the Chevy Chase room so named after the hunting scenes on the plaster frieze. Banners with various coats of arms hung from the wood beams crossing the ceiling.
The last stop was the roof terrace. The terrace offered the second best reason to come to the island - the spectacular views of the bay, Marazion and the rugged English coastline. Cannons lined the parapets. Severus looked down one side. The sea lapped gently against the cliff side. In the opposite direction lay the harbor. To his right Marazion loomed in the horizon. To his left was the open sea.
Mr. McAdoo motioned for everyone's attention. "The tour is now concluded. It is now close to 4pm. We will meet down by the ferry dock at 4:45 and the ferry will leave at exactly 5pm. In the meantime, please enjoy and continue the tour on your own. I should also let you know that a crime will occur somewhere in this very castle sometime from now until we leave." That last statement caused a murmur of astonishment among the assembled as one looked at the other and wondered.